


Go home Hannibal, you are drunk

by Pseudothyrum



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Crack, Drunkenness, Gen, Hannibal just cannot confess to murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-04 07:22:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1770553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pseudothyrum/pseuds/Pseudothyrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every time Hannibal gets drunk he confesses to various murders. Nobody believes him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go home Hannibal, you are drunk

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kinkmeme prompt, "Every time Hannibal gets drunk, he confesses to different murders. Everyone just figures he's joking."

They’re about four bottles into Hannibal’s wine collection and the entire world is looking pleasantly hazy. Hannibal, Alana, Jack, and Will had met after a pretty intense case, and Hannibal had invited the others back to his place to eat away their sorrows. It was the damnedest thing, the serial killer vanishing like that. At least it had given Hannibal the opportunity to prepare them a delicious "pork" dish with an obscenely fancy name. They had had some wine with the meal, and somehow it had turned into a few more glasses after dinner, then another bottle, and now this, sitting loosely in Hannibal’s living room, drinking and occasionally talking. Hannibal is about to fall asleep when he suddenly feels the urge to speak. 

“I killed that murderer, you know,” he murmurs sleepily. 

“Yeah, I wish I could have killed him, too,” says Jack, nodding fervently, “a monster like that doesn’t deserve to live. I have no idea how he escaped” 

“No, that’s what I’m saying,” says Hannibal with drunken conviction, “he didn’t escape, I killed him. He was delicious, I’m sure you all agree.” Everybody laughs quietly. 

“It would have been delicious to catch him, wouldn’t it,” says Alana, stumbling a little over her words. Hannibal furrows his brow. He isn’t sure how this isn’t clear to them, but his mind is fuzzy from the wine and he decides to let it go. 

***

The celebration of Jimmy Price’s birthday gets out of hand very quickly. Hannibal thinks that somebody probably slipped him something a little bit stronger than he had been expecting, given that he has had two glasses of beer and feels quite thoroughly drunk. He has found himself embroiled in conversation about a chef that Jimmy used to date who was apparently a complete asshole. 

“I ate a chef once,” Hannibal says reflectively, “ironically he tasted quite atrocious, entirely too fatty.” Jimmy bursts into laughter. 

“I like you when you’re drunk Hannibal, you’re so funny!” he slaps Hannibal on the back and Hannibal is so unstable he almost falls out of his chair. 

“His sous chef didn’t think it was so funny,” says Hannibal, “though I think that was mostly because it was in the middle of the dinner rush.” Jimmy is giggling so hard he nearly slips under the table. 

“She was incredibly rude, actually,” Hannibal says thoughtfully, “I killed her too, and made her into a stew,” Jimmy literally collapses onto the floor and lies there, laughing convulsively. 

Hannibal debates briefly with helping the man up, but gives this up as a physical impossibility, and decides to search out some coffee instead.

***

Hannibal and Jack are sharing a cab after a particularly boring FBI awards party that had been enlivened greatly by Zeller’s smuggling of a frankly impressive amount of whiskey into the venue. He and Jack had had to support one another into the cab by the end of the night, barely able to walk. As they pass through a stretch of forest, Hannibal finds himself reminiscing aloud. 

“I’ve buried so many people in that forest,” he says, gazing out at the trees that are flying by, “nobody ever thinks to check this forest.” Jack laughs. 

“Oh yeah, and how many people have you buried here?” he asks. Hannibal frowns and considers. 

“Perhaps seventy? It is easy to lose track of such things, I don’t think anybody bothered to report most of them missing.” Jack nods, feigning seriousness. 

“I suppose I should be arresting you for these seventy terrible murders?”

“I would prefer you didn’t,” says Hannibal, “at least arrest me for one of the more interesting ones.” Jack laughs long and loud at this.

“You as a murderer,” he says, gasping, “that I’d like to see.” 

“You have seen it, constantly, you’ve been at like fifty of my crime scenes,” Jack is wiping away tears now. 

“Hannibal, we have to get you home, man, you’re so drunk!” Hannibal cannot dispute this, though he can't help but feel a little consternation.

***

“This meal is made entirely of people,” Hannibal says to his guests. He has had a few too many glasses of wine and he feels the need to test Frederick's and Alana’s boundaries, to see if they still react as everyone else always seems to. They both laugh as though they are genuinely amused at the thought. “What, even the salad?” Alana asks incredulously. 

“No. Well, the dressing. Your beer is people,” he says, “I made it out of an accountant who said some very unsavoury things about my tie” 

“I thought you said this was chicken,” says Frederick, looking at the distinctly not chicken meat that has been arranged artfully before him. 

“It isn’t,” says Hannibal, “it doesn’t even taste like chicken.”

“You’re hilarious, Hannibal!” says Alana, laughing. 

“Next you’ll be telling us that you’re a serial killer or something!” Frederick says, smiling and digging into the not-chicken. 

Hannibal doesn’t even bother to respond, he just takes another sip of wine.


End file.
